Queen of Air and Darkness
by Theano
Summary: Tanis Leal is an exile from more than just the Jedi Order. Now she's facing an ancient evil that the galaxy has forgotten ever existed. An AU retelling of KotOR 2. Takes place in the same universe as The Black Door.
1. Peragus: Awaken

**Title: **Queen of Air and Darkness

**Author:** Theano

**Rating:** M for violence and (eventually) adult situations.

**Summary:** Tanis Leal is an exile from more than just the Jedi Order. An AU-ish retelling of KotOR 2. Takes place in the same universe as _The Black Door_, so you may want to read that one first.

**Disclaimer:** It all belongs to LucasArts, BioWare, Disney, etc., etc. - everyone else is getting paid but me!

**A/N: **I'm only on the sixth chapter, writing this. When I started posting _The Black Door_, I was three-quarters done. This... is going to take a while. While the initial few chapters will be up in a timely manner, it may be weeks or even months between new updates. But I'm posting now because maybe making this public earlier will keep me writing more often.

Like the previous story, this is a heavily AU take on the game. If you have not read _The Black Door_, you may wind up very confused at some crucial times, as some of the AU themes and events in that story are directly related to major ones here. (The end of this chapter, for instance...)

I have not played The Old Republic MMO, nor does that storyline have any bearing on this one.

And finally, if you spot any major hiccups in the writing, don't hesitate to let me know! I am my own beta reader, and although I pride myself on grammar and spelling, sometimes I can fall right through plot holes. A friendly critique is a very good thing.

* * *

**I. Peragus: Awaken**

The door chimed, sending BL-84 skittering to the entrance.

Juhani rolled out of bed as quietly as she could, not wanting to disturb her wife. Bastila had been suffering from her headaches again, and sleep was the only relief.

Their house was dark and quiet, the walls hung with sound-dampening tapestries, windows covered against the bright Dantooine sun. She padded quietly across thick carpeting to the foyer.

"Who was at the door?" she asked the droid, hugging her house robe over her flimsy shift.

"He-" The droid's head jerked to one side, indicating the darkened living room, the hall beyond that led into the rest of the house. "He-" It jerked again, the same motion. "He-"

Juhani's gut filled with ice. From inside the bedroom, Bastila began to scream.

* * *

Tanis woke with the echoes of screams in her mind. After a moment she realized where she was - in her own skin, in her own skull, and lying in a cold, sticky puddle.

Convulsive coughs brought a rush of vile liquid up from her throat. She rolled over and sat up, but her hand came down on something sharp; cursing, she dug a sliver of plasglass out of her palm, then watched the cut heal and disappear.

The tank above her had been shattered. If she was going to slice herself open, though, what better place than in a pool of kolto?

Several other tanks in a circle held other bodies, but she didn't think they'd be magically reviving any time soon.

_Where the hell am I?_ she wondered, then winced as a sudden headache demanded her attention. _And more importantly, where's a refresher?_

Tiptoeing through the glass and kolto, Tanis made her way out into a bare, metal-walled companionway. She felt naked without a blaster, but -

She looked down at herself. _The stars hate me_, she thought in embarrassment.

"Hey, anyone here?" she tried. There was the sort of faint hum and rumble common to all sorts of ships and stations; the air, beneath the kolto lingering in her throat and sinuses, smelled stale - canned and endlessly recycled. Probably not planetary atmosphere, then.

She palmed a door open to find the berth inside filled with shelves of medical-looking appliances, several inactive droids that looked more suited to heavy lifting than surgical operations, and a large canister labeled for safe storage. A bed complete with guard rails and safety straps confirmed her impression that she'd woken up in a hospital wing.

An empty hospital wing. Where was everyone?

Tanis pried open the canister; inside were smaller crates, all packed with bottles and syringes. Her head pounding, she dug desperately until she found a bottle of a familiar, milky white chemical. Filling a syringe, she dosed herself, lay down on the bed, and relaxed into a dreamless sleep.

* * *

She woke hearing the echoes of battle and shot up, reaching for a weapon she would never hold again, before remembering where she was. A breath - two - before she raced for the 'fresher and vomited.

Whimpering, she clutched her head while her nerves howled.

At last she was able to get up and rinse her mouth; she concentrated again on breathing, letting her body catch up to the fact that it was protected again from the old pain, her mind wrapped safely away from agony.

Hunting again through the medical supplies, Tanis discovered a carry sack, which she promptly stuffed with kolto packs and as many bottles of antibiotics, painkillers, and tranquilizers as she could fit. There were two more bottles of kaltheromide; she wondered what this place was, that they needed such a thing. By the time she had reassured herself that she was safe, she had calmed down enough to shower and garb herself in the only clothing she could find, a skimpy hospital shift.

Across the hallway was another room, this one less a private berth and more a small clinic.

The body on the bed was dressed in medical greens, but wore a mechanic's belt. She unclasped it and fastened it around her own waist.

Suddenly she realized that there had been a second body - one she had blithely walked past, selectively blind to its existence. A Force user, then.

She turned slowly, her hand tightening on the plasma cutter hanging from the tool belt.

An old woman, palsied hands shaking as they clutched an equally aged and wrinkled head in obvious pain and disorientation, sat on the cot nearest the door. Tanis knelt down next to her, pocketing the plasma cutter, and took a look at the woman.

"Hey - are you all right? Do you need some help?"

"Help? No, no help, child. Just - a rest. And... where is the doctor? Could you summon him? I believe he said something about bringing my medication." Milky eyes stared up at Tanis blindly. _She must think I'm a nurse or something_, Tanis thought.

"The doctor... left." She couldn't exactly tell this little grandmother what was going on - not that she herself knew anything about what had happened - but she had to think of something. "There was an accident, and some of the workers were hurt, so..."

"Oh, my, of course, of course. Why, he must need your help, if things are that bad! I can manage, dear, don't worry about me. But - "

"What is it?"

"That nice young man in the security office - we met on the ship, and he stopped by to say hello just the other day - and then yesterday the doctor said he had been locked up! Can you imagine?"

"Would you like me to check on him?"

"Oh, if it wouldn't be too much trouble. I don't want to be a bother..."

"I'll be back, Gran. You take it easy."

Before she left, Tanis made certain to cover the doctor's body, then quietly wheeled his cot out and into the kolto tank chamber with all the other dead bodies. She did her best to lock down the door so the old woman - blind or no - wouldn't be able to find such awfulness.

There had been something about a Force user somewhere in the room? She couldn't remember now, and the old woman certainly wasn't in any danger from Tanis.

She shook her head, and went looking for the security office. Maybe there would be someone in there who could tell her what the hell was going on.

* * *

It usually took him about two minutes, give or take, to run through a round of mental pazaak. If the primary player - that was him - was especially smart, or if the opposing player - also him - was especially stupid, it would go a lot faster. Sometimes he pitted two geniuses against each other, and that would eat a good chunk of time. But generally - two minutes. Give or take.

By Atton's count, he'd been in this cell for just over a day. He'd long since given up shouting for whoever could hear him, and was just about ready to give in to his bladder. He knew from unfortunate experience that you _could_ piss against the confinement field of a force cell; the urine would be vaporized, but it left an unmistakable, eye-watering stench.

Twenty-eight standard hours, or thereabouts. The primary player was getting his ass handed to him by the competitor, and Atton was ready to give anything for a shot of juma. Or a whiskey. Or, hell, just some cool, clear water. And while he was dreaming, he'd take a rack of shaak ribs with spiced honey, and maybe some fried twists on the side.

Atton folded; his opponent put on Atton's best _screw-you_ smirk and was ready to deal again, when a contradiction walked into the security office.

He noticed her legs, first - oh, yeah, he noticed that they went _all_ the way up and maybe a little past that. Smooth muscle contoured beneath rich brown skin. She had the body of a fighter, but she was wearing a hospital shift - not that he minded the view. Eventually his eyes worked their way up to a middle-aged face made older by short, prematurely grey hair. And he expected a tall, sinewy figure like hers to have an athlete's grace, but she moved cautiously, as if she had an old injury that might flare up any moment.

"Uh..." he said with all the wit and charm of a ten-year-old farm boy.

"Who are you?" the woman blurted. All charm, this one.

"Atton. Atton Rand. Any chance of a trip to the 'fresher? And maybe a meal or three, plus drinks?"

Her eyes narrowed, but lingered for a moment on the sweat stains under his jacket, and she finally nodded. She palmed the security lock, and the energy field disappeared. Atton took the chance to disappear into the 'fresher cabinet and came back feeling about ten liters better.

His rescuer was holding an unlit plasma torch in a casual grip when he rounded the corner again. He dealt another mental hand, sizing up his opponent.

"So what exactly were you locked up for, Atton Rand?"

He tried on his suave pose. "I beat a few guys at the card table, and they took exception. Security decided to question me about it, then some kind of emergency went down, and they stuck me in the cage. And then you walked in wearing - well, you just made my day a whole lot better." Her expression didn't change - not even an offended scowl. This one, he decided, was going to be tough to crack. "Uh - I mean, I really needed to use the - hey, you wouldn't happen to know where everyone went off to, Miss...?"

"Tanis," she said. She shivered, and he suddenly realized that she looked - off.

"Are you okay?" Funny, it ought to be the rescuer asking the prisoner that, but these things never worked out the way he thought they should.

"F-fine."

"Hey, what's wrong?"

"Nothing," she snapped, "j-just c-cold..."

"I can tell." He tried a smirk, earning a scowl this time as she crossed her arms, and then those long legs of hers gave out.

"Whoa!" He caught her before she could hit the floor. "Look, I'm used to ladies swooning at my feet, sweetheart, but this is ridiculous."

That earned him a slap, and he breathed a sigh of relief. She was a real, genuine, honest-to-Atton, regular human being. "Let's get you to the clinic. Can you stand?"

"B-bag," she whispered, gesturing for the carry sack she'd dropped when she walked in. He dragged it closer; after rummaging through it a moment, the woman pulled out a bottle and a hypo and, scowling at him ferociously, dosed herself.

Great. The most amazing pair of legs he'd ever had the pleasure to encounter, and they belonged to some kind of kriffing -

"Whatever you're thinking, shut it," she snarled. "Help me up."

* * *

By the time Atton had escorted her back to the clinic, Tanis was feeling almost human again. But what had happened was a bad sign; she hadn't had a seizure like that in over six months - not since the holocomm message that had sent her to a filthy docking bay in the even filthier Outer Rim hive she'd managed to lose herself in for the past few years.

She couldn't remember what had happened to the message, or her datapad. She couldn't even remember who had sent it, or why it was supposed to be important.

"Kathy" was easy to come by out there, where the failed and fallen of both sides of the last war tried to hide what they had been. Back in something resembling civilization, though, kaltheromide was heavily regulated; only licensed physicians - or Jedi - could legally procure it.

And now this Atton Rand - dangerous, she could tell that much, despite the disarming smile and overdone lines. He was a couple centimeters shorter than her, with stylishly disheveled hair and a roguish grin she might have enjoyed in her previous life. But there was something beneath his scoundrel's flair, something rotten...

Her headache spiked again. She was imagining things. There was no way she could have sensed something like that, not since -

Tanis shook her head as Rand lowered her to one of the clinic cots, the old woman cooing and clucking at her.

The old woman -

_The Force user!_

Instinct made Tanis thrust out wildly, her mind desperately shoving at the dark robes stooping over her - and against all hope and reason, the old woman staggered back against another cot, sitting down abruptly with a quiet chuckle.

"Ah," she breathed, so quietly that Tanis almost thought she'd imagined it. "You are finally recovering, child. Now sleep," the old woman said, and Tanis thought that was a very good idea, barely noticing that Rand was also collapsing into a cot as if drugged.

* * *

"Who are you?" It seemed like Tanis was destined to ask that question first of everyone she met.

"You may call me Kreia. I am no one, really, merely an old woman who has been taking care of you. You may not remember me, but I've been with you for quite some time now."

Rand was still asleep, but Tanis and the old woman - Kreia - were speaking quietly enough not to disturb him.

"Why don't I remember you?"

"The drug - it leaves you confused, forgetful. Fortunately, we will be able to wean you off it now."

A moment of panic gripped her. She _needed_ her meds - the pain - and without them -

"Shhh..."

Tanis felt herself calming, realized it was Kreia's influence, and couldn't help a wash of shame that set her eyes stinging. But the old woman was humming something now, a simple, happy tune, and everything was going to be okay.

It was only right, Tanis thought as she fell back into warm, comfortable slumber, that she should fall so easily victim to Force manipulation. It was the kaltheromide, of course, but it was also justice, in a way. After all, she'd done it to so many people herself. Eventually their thoughts would mirror hers, their pulses beat in time, their will subverted to her own.

Pleading and crying. Screams. Tanis could no longer remember whether they had come from her friends, from those under her command, or from herself. They were fading now, though, replaced by Kreia's gentle voice and touch.

Everything was going to be all right.

* * *

_Her shins snapped as she screamed in horror and agony, and she hit the stony ground far harder than she should have. The impact forced hipbones from their sockets, fireworks plasming up her spine as vertebral discs shattered. She felt the crack and crunch of her skull fracturing as her head impacted. Still only dimly aware, she was instinctively fighting for breath, but her ribcage had flattened, and even the starburst implosion of her heart brought no relief..._

She sat up, struggling with the sheet tangling her limbs, gasping and choking against a terrible, impossible heaviness. Finally Tanis realized that she was breathing again, great sobbing inhales and spittle-flung exhales into air that hadn't been liquefied after all into a boiling, freezing hell.

Voices, hands, the stab of a needle. And then the gentle wash of the drug, making the red blade of pain retract.

She was _here_ and _now_, and the terror was well in her past, and she would never have to look at it again unless she chose. Except in dreams; except when her nightmare self dragged her mind back into the choices she'd made a thousand years ago.

Funny how all the holovids about heroes winning wars ended happily, everyone riding off into a bright future, starburst nebulae and rainbow sunsets and all that absolute garbage.

Someone brought the lights dimly to life, and then Rand and that Kreia woman were looking at her with concern, and Tanis reminded herself that she was _not_ a three-year-old youngling who needed constant looking after.

"We need to find a way off this rock," she announced, and no one disagreed.

* * *

Tanis looked out toward the ventilation control bridge with trepidation. The little droid had reopened the turbolifts, but then his communications had fallen silent. Something must have happened to him, maybe something connected to wherever the occupants of the mining base had disappeared to.

There were plenty of other droids down here, but somehow Tanis didn't think they wanted to help her. They clustered in crevasses and shadows, only their multiple photoreceptors showing - pale gleams blinking with slow, malevolent patience.

Arachnids had always been more frightening to Tanis than other bugs, but these droids were no harmless little spinners. The charred bodies she'd already stumbled over were proof enough of that.

Among all the logs and recordings they'd all hunted through during the past three days, there was an instructional orientation; after all the safety procedures and demolition warnings, there had been a promotional piece on Peragus' development. Apparently, the original miners had thought it would be a good idea to use droids with morphology based on that of Kessel spice spiders.

Because, of course, living in the potentially explosive guts of an asteroid wasn't nightmarish enough.

Edging past another droid, its laser mandibles and many-jointed legs clicking as it followed her movement, Tanis decided that reverence for all life was overrated. The next spinner she saw, she would squash.

She walked quietly across the bridge towards the vent shaft terminal, but stopped halfway there. Lying on the ledge across the vent shaft from her was a corpse. She thought it was a corpse, at least - no one should have been able to survive those terrible burns! - until it turned its head to look at her.

"Help me." Lips moved, no voice coming out of the cracked and blistered face, but Tanis could hear the plea in her mind, burning through her.

A chirring clatter as a handful of droids converged on their victim. She tried to pull them away with the Force, but she was still so weak - and then came the high-pitched whine of mining lasers, the dry, rasping shriek and sizzle of burning flesh -

Tanis made it into the computer niche just in time to avoid a one-way trip down the vent shaft. Her legs gave out as her spine arched, nerves and muscles screaming and spasming as the miner's death tore through her mind, sending her spiralling into darkness...

_Somehow she made it into the escape pod in time, but only three others had managed to scramble inside when the ship blew. The force of the explosion hurled the tiny pod away, battering it with fire and debris. There hadn't been enough time to put on the bulky environment suits, and these life pods were supposed to be able to survive a blast like that; but something cracked, and now the air was escaping, and it wasn't supposed to end like this. A last gasp of thin, freezing air, and then everything was empty. There would never be any warmth again._

* * *

"Tanis, come in. Come on, talk to me! Where are you, what's going on? Hey, don't leave me alone with this crazy old woman!" Atton glanced over at the crazy old woman. "Uh, no offense."

Kreia smiled. Something in her expression suddenly made him start up a new pazzak game. Both players would be card-counting geniuses, this time.

He turned back to the terminal and tried the comm again. It was going to be a long wait.

* * *

The office door chimed.

Carth Onasi looked up from the holocomm message on his datapad. He must have read it fifty times a day, every day for a week, but it never held more than that brief message.

The message, though-that had been copied to at least five other recipients across the galaxy.

His door chimed again.

"Yes?"

A pretty blonde head peeked in. "Sir, you have a visitor."

"I thought I said no calls, Lieutenant."

The woman blinked, nodded, and did not leave. "Yes, sir. But sir - he says his name is Jolee Bindo."


	2. Jedi

**A/N: **Sorry about the wait! I live at work these days (home is merely where I bathe and sleep), so I don't have nearly as much time to do things like read and write and watch TV. I will _try_ to update more reasonably, but once I run out of written chapters, expect things to slow down considerably again. Um. Even more considerably.

Also, since I'm nowhere near finished with the story: if you spot plot holes or contradictions with the previous story, please let me know! I am my own beta reader, and I don't always catch mistakes till months later.

I'm messing around with the game canon here. Because the HK/assassin droid plot was left unfinished, and because my rather messy mind can't come up with a solution, I'm just taking it out entirely. Instead of HK-50 chasing the Exile around, I'm inserting our old friend (?) HK-47.

* * *

**II. Jedi**

Tanis stumbled to her feet, still dizzy.

"_Come i...anis! Can y...me?_"

Fumbling out her comlink, she closed her eyes for a moment to center herself. "Yeah, I'm fine, Rand. Shut up and let me work."

She leaned against the terminal until her stomach settled, then keyed the console to life. Administrative options cascaded, inviting her to open the reactor force fields, close down the mining droids, adjust work schedules.

A tap on the terminal, and the whine of the fields quieted, leaving only the skittering sound of droids.

Calling up their programming code, she downloaded a copy into the datapad she'd found in the crate with the extra miner's uniform. Tanis was no slicer, but Rand, she thought, was the type. Maybe he'd be able to tell what had gone wrong.

Again she triggered the droid shut-down signal. Several scurried about on the far side of the vent shaft ledge, clinging to the walls and disappearing into crevices, looking far too much like predators slipping into their dens. The rest stayed gathered around the edges of the shaft, watching Tanis, seemingly fascinated.

She huddled up to the computer terminal, scanning the option menus for something - anything - she might use. Finally she found it, buried beneath checklists and schedules and emergency procedures: she hit "Turbolift Operations," then "Restart."

A clank, then abrupt silence where there had been a nearly inaudible thrum. The droids paused in their wandering, until another shrill whine rose from somewhere deep inside the guts of the mine. A thousand legs skittered and scratched as mining droids turned at the sound, then turned again to face Tanis, watching, eager for - what?

She exited the terminal menus, shutting down the console and drawing her small, probably ineffectual mining laser. The dizzying bridge between the reactor terminal and the outer edge was too thin for the wide-stanced droids to cross. _Of course_, she thought, _if the mine constructors were conscientious enough to include that safety feature, why couldn't they have thought of handrails?_

Halfway across the span, Tanis noticed that the droids - and when had the handful become this swarm? - were making room for her to step off. Had their programming gone back to normal? No, they had finished off that poor man only a few minutes ago.

What had changed?

The arachnid machines parted in front of her as if she were some sort of droid prophet. Could droids have prophets? she wondered in frantic whimsy, her mind looking for anything to distract it from all those awful, staring _things_.

Checking the map she'd uploaded to the datapad, she walked steadily towards the promised exit, telling herself that the things hadn't killed her yet, that maybe she was different, even though the only thing that separated her from all the other carbonized bodies was that she had once been a -

"_Jeeeeeeediiiiiiiiiii!_"

Tanis spun. The spidery mining droids were still following her, still watching, staring, photoreceptors blinking in hypnotic waves.

Primitive vocoders clicked and sputtered, layers of static thrum somehow combining to form a single, terrifying voice:

"_JEDI!_"

By the time she threw herself into the turbolift, stabbing the button to close the doors, Tanis was sweating and sobbing in horror. Droids didn't _do_ that - droids _couldn_'t do that!

Something in this station had gone catastrophically wrong. And they still didn't have a way out.

The turbolift whirred and clicked, its indicators blinking with slow assurance as it carried Tanis into the belly of the station.

* * *

"Greetings, Mistress!"

"What?"

"Repetition: Greetings, Mistress!" The droid's head canted to a decidedly un-droidish way as it leered at her. Tanis couldn't remember if she'd ever seen a droid leer, but this one was doing a remarkable job.

"Why are you calling me your mistress?"

"Explanation: My previous master was the captain of the _Harbinger_, a fine Republic ship which you were also a passenger on. In light of the deaths of all aboard, however, I must now answer to you."

"Deaths? I was...? How long have you been aboard this station? What happened to..."

The "everyone" died in her throat as Tanis stepped through the door into what looked like a meeting room.

The droid looked from Tanis to the body on the floor and back. "Query: Is there a problem, Mistress?"

Tanis knelt by the dead man. He'd been tall in life, handsome, with a long face and bright red hair framed by a pair of welding goggles propped on his forehead.

What remained of his legs twisted in a moulder of carbonized bone.

"Did _you_ do this?"

"Shocked reply: Of course not! Addendum: I am only a humble protocol droid; I know nothing of the expert assassination package such a feat as that miner's undoubtedly agonizing mutilation and death would require. Such incredible skill and acumen are beyond my sadly limited faculties!"

Tanis gave the droid a long look. "But I'll bet you know who was responsible."

"Admission: Yes, Mistress."

She rose to her feet, her hand brushing the mining laser at her hip. "And?"

"Amusement: While I am flattered that you would consider using such a weapon to force the truth from my slowly melting circuits, I must advise you that it would not be in your best interests, as I am delighted to comply!"

She gritted her teeth. "Then comply."

"Explanation: This pile of expertly burned flesh and charred rags which was formerly the facility's droid maintenance officer was, ironically, murdered by the very droids he once had the charge of."

"You don't sound like any protocol droid I've ever seen."

"Proud statement: I am an Aitch-Kay Forty-Seven protocol droid, Mistress. This production line, of which I am a stellar example, features enhanced programming, performance, and initiative."

Droids. She had never liked them.

"Do me a favor and stay here. I'm going to look for a way off this rock."

"Cautionary advice: Mistress, the best use of your programming would be to stay here, shut down, and wait for rescue. A ship is sure to arrive eventually."

"Right. Here's something to remember, droid: Organics have to eat, drink, and breathe. If this station runs out of food, water, or air, you'll be the only one left when the next ship comes."

"Embarrassed confession: Oh, dear. I had not thought of that."

She stalked out to find the late technician's office; in it she also discovered his log, along with the code key he'd used to lock down the turbolifts into the mining tunnels. Apparently his droids had gotten so out of control that he'd taken drastic action.

The last command they had obeyed from him was to head into the mining tunnels, after which he'd shut down the lifts - trapping anyone who hadn't made it out in time.

But at least one mining droid must have stayed behind.

Tanis felt another migraine beginning, stabbing through her right eye socket and into the back of her skull. Her hands began to twitch.

Leaning against a workbench, she fumbled in her tool belt for her last dose. There was more back in the medical wing, but she hadn't expected things to take so long.

The drug went to work quickly, dulling the pounding in her head along with the shrill of renewed Force contact that burned like acid along her nerve endings. With a grateful sigh, Tanis dug through her belt pockets again until she found a ration bar.

Taking a hungry bite, she looked up to find the damn protocol droid watching her through the open doors.

Droids didn't judge, she reminded herself; they were incapable of making the sort of social comparisons organic sentients always did. Still, though... his photoreceptors suddenly seemed as evil as the gleaming eyes of the mining droids Tanis had barely escaped from.

Suppressing a shiver, Tanis continued her exploration, hoping to find at least one living person somewhere.

Around the curve, the hallway opened out into the vast space of a docking bay. Inside sat a small merchant ship that looked strangely familiar.

_Revan_, she thought, though she couldn't understand why.

But it was a ship! They had a way off, once she made it down there, once she found the way back to the security bay...

Once she found a way past these damn force fields!

The stars hated her, she thought miserably, as she tried repeatedly - and failed repeatedly - to find some way to shut the fields down.

Finally she went back to the maintenance office, sat down against the wall, and closed her eyes.

_The droid._

Tanis hobbled up, shut the door, and relaxed to the floor again. She meant only to close her eyes, maybe catch a momentary nap, but she found tears leaking from behind her lashes. She couldn't stop thinking about the dead technician, the awful smell of his burned legs.

The miner in the tunnels, begging for her help just before the droids... did what they did.

She curled up against the canister, sobbing, wishing she could simply drug herself into oblivion, wishing she could stop the memories that invaded her mind, as inevitable as the searing Force.

* * *

HK-47 watched the closed door in electronic fascination. He dialed up his auditory sensors till they brought him the faint sounds of an organic in emotional distress. Where any other protocol droid would have moved to help, HK-47 stayed where he was. Those sounds, his programming told him, were evidence that he was doing a splendid job.

* * *

Whoever had been the safety officer of this mining field, Tanis reflected, had better be dead already.

After spending some time fuming over the idiotic regulations that blocked the docking hold - in a situation where escape would have been incredibly useful! - she had gathered herself up, reminding herself that feeling sorry for her own situation would help no one at all, and gotten on with things. _Nothing like imminent death by boredom to motivate you..._ Soon enough, she had found a way around the blocked docking hold - by taking a very unexpected EVA that would hopefully lead her into the residential area, and some answers.

She stepped out of the airlock, trying to steady her frantic breathing. She closed her eyes, inhaled, exhaled. Opened her eyes.

Starfields were never the same.

Of course she'd seen cosmic displays everywhere from Coruscant and Alderaan to Tatooine and Malachor V, but every one was different. Sometimes the sky would be veiled with dust clouds; other times, star flare would make the void too bright to view unprotected. Here, outside the Peragus mining facility, Tanis felt like a spider-flea crawling on the hide of a ronto.

Slowly tumbling rocks, looking absurdly like clods of dirt kicked up by some galactic giant at play, drifted by silently. Out here, stars didn't twinkle: that was an atmospheric effect; instead, hard diamonds gleamed steadily, unblinking.

She looked down at her heavily booted feet. The magnetic soles of the vacuum suit kept her firmly attached to the grated walkways weaving around the skin of the asteroid. It didn't take much individual effort to lift each foot; but the repetitive movement, and keeping her balance with no gravity, and simply _breathing_ when her instincts insisted on holding her breath - all of it made what might have been an easy stroll, elsewhere, into a sweating endurance exercise.

Her feet clanged on the metallic grating. She knew the sound didn't exist outside the suit, but it traveled perfectly well within the suit's atmosphere; the contrast between the illusion of outside noise and the silent movement of the asteroid field - both beautiful and oddly disturbing - only added to the exertion.

Something made Tanis stop and turn around. _There's something coming_, she thought, but saw nothing that could explain the feeling.

"_You there? You're coming in loud and clear now - almost like - well, that can't be right!_"

"What can't be right?" But nothing had been right at all, not since she had given her final order, a lifetime ago, and the Force had simply... gone away.

"_Your signal's coming in from outside the station, on the surf - oh._"

Tanis saw Rand's silhouette moving behind the security station's broad viewport. She gave him a wave, miming cheerfulness she didn't feel.

The sensation in her gut deepened, and she turned again, clumsily, trying to focus on every area of the void at once. Rand muttered something under his breath, then shouted a curse that was lost in a sudden burst of static. A pressure on her mind - _Kreia?_ - and a cautionary sense of patience swept through her.

Her eyes found a distortion in the far distance. A small cluster of stars wavered and spun under the effect of a decaying hyper field. A new star appeared as the others righted their positions; its odd coruscation suggested motion as it grew into a smear, a shimmering blob of light, finally resolving into a ship. The hammerhead bridge and long, thin hull sported the red and cream of the Republic Navy. The cruiser drifted in, its gunports and weapons dark and still, and came to a gentle stop. Tanis felt the vibrations through her boots as a pair of hydraulic docking tubes reached out to welcome the visitor.

"_ - says this is no rescue party!_" came Rand's voice, urgency boiling through the com static.

"Repeat your last?"

"_I said, your friend says that ship isn't here for anything good! She says there's something 'dark' on board, whatever the hell that means._"

"Acknowledged."

"_So what do you want us to do?_"

"Since when did _I_ become the leader of our happy little family?"

Rand's voice laughed tinnily. "_Since you decided to risk your own neck to get us out of here, beautiful._"

"Don't call me that. And just so you know, next time it's your turn!"

"_I hear you_," he replied. "_Be careful out there._"

As if in response to his warning, something deep inside the mining facility seemed to lurch. A low, metallic groan vibrated from her feet, through her chest, into her skull, and an explosion of heated vapor knocked the magnetic seal of her boots away, sending Tanis reeling away through empty space.

For one shining moment, her connection to the Force was there, strong and real and empty of pain and grief, as pure and beautiful as it had been when she'd first reached out to it as a child. Then her body slammed into the side of the Republic ship, reality reasserted itself, and she was alone in her own body once again. Her boots scrambled for magnetic purchase on the broad hull, but something was badly wrong. Gravity - why could she feel gravity pulling her down?

Tanis' knees buckled, the stiffness of the suit no help against a force this strong; she hit the outer hull with a frightening crack. Her breath caught and sped as she scrambled to grab onto something - anything! - but she slid further and further along the edge until one of her flailing hands found the rung of a maintenance ladder.

Grunting with the effort, she tried to bring her other hand up, but she found her strength leaving her. She couldn't even hear Rand now; only silence on the comms, silence and her own desperate pants and growls of effort. She clutched at the ladder, but the harder she tried to grip, the looser her hand became.

It wasn't enough. It had never been enough. Her strength had failed her.

She fell, and fell, and fell.


	3. Telos Station: Under Suspicion

**A/N: **I think I've tweaked and rewritten this chapter about five times in the last month, not including update edits! Just wait, I'll get to chapter 18 and suddenly have to rewrite it again when the story takes a left turn at Alderaan...

Yes, I skipped the barracks section back on Peragus. And that's all I'll say about that.

Note that this I'm making Kreia much more sympathetic (at least around Tanis) than the game version. Don't worry, she's still a bad guy in this story. But she's also been through some pretty horrific experiences, and I don't like shallow villains. She has a dire purpose, and not everything she does is what her younger self would have chosen. As for her hand... Um. *shifty eyes*

Any dialogue you recognize from the game does not belong to me. Any craziness you don't recognize comes from my whacked-out brain. And my brain is _very_ whacked-out.

Please let me know if you spot any mistakes; I am my own beta reader, and I'd like to not faceplant into a plot hole. And if you're enjoying the story, I hope you'll let me know that, too. :-)

* * *

**III. Telos Station: Under Suspicion**

Tanis woke, screaming.

Voices came out of the darkness, voices that she ought to know.

"What's wrong with her?"

"Nothing that I have not dealt with before. Keep her still." Hands on her arms, someone's breath brushing against her face. She opened her eyes, but couldn't make sense of the jumble of images veering in and out of focus. The sound of something clicking. "Hold this here." Pressure, and then a prick, something stinging and cold surging under her skin.

The room stopped moving, the hurricane in her mind quieting to a low hum.

She opened her eyes again, saw a pale pale face with concerned, absurdly attractive brown eyes looking back at her. "Where are we? What happened?"

"Hush. Safe." The voice came from behind Rand's head, and Tanis noticed brown robes shifting and sliding above her arm.

"Kreia?"

"You remember me, then. How are you feeling?"

The needle withdrew, the pressure vanished. Rand backed off like a child caught where he shouldn't have been.

Kreia flipped the injector closed, one-handed, and then Tanis saw her other hand. A black glove encased it.

___Bodies everywhere, stinking of poison and decay. _A figure, cloaked and hooded all in black. A black-gloved hand, raised towards her. "You were never here."

She shook the - dream? vision? - out of her head, focusing on Kreia. "What's wrong with your hand?"

The old woman felt Tanis' forehead with her other hand - a warm, gentle concern - then looked at her eyes. "No fever, no concussion. How much do you remember of the past few days, child?"

Tanis sat up and looked around. Two more cots crowded the small room, with a comm station waiting on one wall, and another wall taken up with a wide transparisteel window looking out at a steady traffic of small shuttles and repair vessels.

Somehow they had found their way off the Peragus station, then.

"I... remember the big ship coming in. The gas venting. And then..." She shook her head, deciding not to mention falling off the ship into a gravity well that couldn't have existed. It had been another hallucination, like those she'd experienced many times before. She realized suddenly that those horrible mining droids couldn't have been real, either. "Nothing. I woke up here."

Rand, sitting at the edge of another cot, was fidgeting with a datapad. "You, uh, you saved our lives."

Kreia patted Tanis' shoulder with her ungloved hand, then stood up.

"But what happened? What's wrong with your hand, Kreia?"

"Nothing is _wrong_, child. I am well."

Rand stared at the old woman's back, then shook his head at Tanis, a haunted look in his eyes. "You really don't remember...?"

Tanis rubbed her face, tried to think. "Did we go into that ship? I think... bodies...?"

"The ship, yeah. Everyone there was dead - just like on the station. Well, except for the stealthed Sith troopers that attacked us. And the half-dead Sith lord that the old woman took on single-handed. Uh... I mean..." He reddened as he realized his slip. "But you... I don't think I've ever seen anyone fight like you. Where did you learn - "

"This does her no good, young man, all this talk of fighting." Kreia went over to the comm station on the wall, feeling over the buttons, punching a few until a chime sounded, a polite voice asking if they needed anything.

While Kreia ordered dinner, Rand gave Tanis a rundown of events. "...and I've never - I mean, _never_, seen anyone shoot down that many people with a little merchanter turret gun before!"

Tanis looked down at her own hands. She thought hard, and found a wisp of pain, desperation. The zing of blaster bolts, red explosions, and a distant, horrified denial.

_You were never here._

Lost time. Waking dreams. She should have been used to it by now. She'd lost more than time, certainly; a few hours or days that she ought to be happy to not remember - what did that matter?

Worrying at the synthskin sealing the puncture on the inside of her elbow, she looked around. "Where's the..."

"Through there," Rand said, nodding at a door in one corner. He stepped over to help her up as she wobbled, but she pushed him away.

"I'm fine," she snapped.

He backed off, hands raised in surrender, and Tanis staggered into the refresher.

"Explain something to me," Rand's voice said in the room outside. "I don't see why - Jedi are supposed to be tough. Why is she... _like that?_"

"Like what?" came Kreia's voice, derisive and challenging.

"She seems so... I don't know. I thought Jedi were supposed to be strong."

"Yes? And what is a Jedi, without the Force? Jedi depend upon the Force more than you realize - more than they themselves know. Take that away... and what might remain?"

Tanis hugged herself, feeling nauseous. Feeling - weak.

"Take away the Force, and even an old woman like me is more capable than a Jedi."

A low whistle. "That seems so... extreme."

"She has been sick for a long time now. Conflict - and even a simple conversation is a form of conflict - is what strengthens us. Peace and solitude, as comforting as they may seem, weaken us. But she needed healing, of a sort that she could only gain in seclusion.

"Add to that the fact that the wounds she suffered affected her mind, affected her ability to touch the Force. She has had to be isolated from other minds, isolated from the Force, as one isolates a burn from more heat."

A sigh, a rustle of robes and the creak of cot springs. "But we do her a disservice by not speaking of this while she is present."

Tanis finished, washed her face and hands. She wanted a full shower, a change of clothes - but she could find only a small sink.

Why were they in this tiny apartment, anyway?

A bell chirped outside.

She exited the refresher to find the apartment door open, two armed guards in uniform standing just inside as a protocol droid entered, laden with trays of food.

Suspicion closed her mouth on the questions Tanis desperately wanted answers to: she knew better than to let an enemy know what she was ignorant of.

"So, why the guards?" she finally asked, after everyone was curled up with their own dinners.

"Oh, just that little matter of the Peragus asteroid field going up like fireworks on Republic Day," Rand supplied.

"What the hell happened?"

"Well, the supposedly empty ghost ship came about and chased the _Ebon Hawk_ out of the Peragus system, guns blazing. And wouldn't you know it, asteroids packed with Peragian ore are highly explosive. They think the destruction of the Peragus mining facility - and a few million asteroids, and probably what was left of the planet itself - was our fault."

"What did you say the name of the ship was?"

"The _Harbinger_. Supposed to be a Republic ship, but - "

"No - the one we flew out on."

"The _Ebon Hawk_."

_You were never here. _

"Was there... anyone else on the _Ebon Hawk_?" she asked cautiously.

"Just that stupid little droid, and it stayed on the ship when we docked here. No one else - unless one of those Sith troopers escaped the barrage you laid down, and decided to hang low inside."

"There are no Sith on that ship," Kreia interjected firmly.

"Well, how would you know? You couldn't see 'em even if they _weren't_ stealthed!"

"I can sense fools and imbeciles quite well, and most Sith have even less intelligence than you, young man."

That shut Rand up, and for a while they all ate in peace.

The door chimed again, but before anyone could rise to answer it, the guards trooped in. Behind them came an older man wearing a similar uniform. He wore a serviceable uniform, carried an air of easy authority, had a face lined with stress and work, and seemed to have the loyalty of competent men. Tanis disliked him immediately, but couldn't put a finger on why.

"We have completed our investigation," he said, "and while the _Ebon Hawk_ was at the Peragus facility, all surviving sensor data records the catastrophe beginning only after the _Harbinger_ opened fire on you. You've been cleared of all charges, and you can retrieve your belongings from the security office." He cleared his throat, then added, "Feel free to use this apartment for as long as you're here; Telos security will cover the cost."

When he was gone, Tanis breathed a sigh of relief. The man raised her hackles. A long time ago, her instincts had never led her wrong. But the world was different now; _she_ was different, and she had sacrificed that part of herself years ago.

_That doesn't mean paranoia is necessarily a bad thing_, she reminded herself grimly.

Later that evening, desperate for clean clothes and a lack of grime, Tanis discovered that the refresher did have a shower after all, cleverly folded away into the wall to save space.

The clear, scalding hot water was glorious. Being cleaner than she had been in a long time made Tanis feel whole, strangely happy, ready to face the next day and whatever it might bring. Before Kreia could prepare a dose of kaltheromide, Tanis shook her head. She was healing, Kreia had said so, and Tanis could feel the truth of that, especially after the luxurious shower.

But the dreams that night were terrible. Bodies twisted in agonized death, desperate messages left by the dead, a dreadful figure in black, faceless and voiceless, only a whisper like dried leaves crumbling. _You were never here._

Kreia's gentle touch woke her. Brushing a cool, damp cloth over Tanis' sweaty brow, humming a sweet, simple tune to soothe away her tears, the old woman tended to her exactly as she had been doing, Tanis' fuzzy memories informed her, for the past several years.

The panicked tightness in her chest eased. "Thank you." Kreia smiled, still humming. "Why are you - I mean, you don't have to..."

"Why have I been caring for you?" The old woman couldn't see her nod, but she continued as if she could. "I never had children. It is the deepest regret of my old age, that I never gave birth, never nursed an infant, never guided a soul into the wonders of life." She folded the damp cloth neatly away, and smiled gently. "I never fell in love, not once. Love is forbidden to our kind."

"You were a Jedi?"

"Hmmm. Once, a long time ago."

"What happened?"

"What happened to all of us? War, death, betrayal from without and within. I went into exile, like you. And like you, I am trying to find my way back. It is... it has been... a dark and fearsome journey to travel."

Tanis stared at Kreia, her mind whirling with the unexpected offering. "Your hand..."

"When one battles evil, one must expect to make sacrifices. You understand this better than most."

Piercing pain, the loss of love, violence and terror and the Force ripping away like a part of her own soul. "Yes," she said simply, her voice heavy with what she had lost.

"Luckily," and Kreia's voice turned brisk and businesslike, "there is a thriving prosthetics industry attached to the Telos restoration project. Apparently, rebuilding a world is dangerous work." She wiggled her gloved fingers with a smile. "So tragedy creates opportunity, yes? Now go to sleep, child. I expect there will be much to do in the morning."

She snuggled back into her own blankets, listening to Kreia lying back down, to Rand's soft snoring on the other side of the room. She felt absurdly happy just then.

In a corner nearby, a small spider wove a small web, its silken strands gleaming in the low light ghosting through the viewport. Tanis watched it for a while, marveling that something so small could create something so delicate and lovely.

Then she sat up, picked up one empty boot, and quietly pressed the hard heel into the creature lurking in the heart of the web.

* * *

They walked out of the little apartment the next day to the sound of ruminant braying and distant blasterfire. Tanis could hear voices shouting, someone else yelling orders.

Huddled in the common foyer of their apartment block was a group of Ithorians clucking and gurgling to each other in their strange tongue. They sounded like a herd of confused banthas, she thought, as she followed the action outside on the street beyond.

Someone in the growing crowd muttered about the Exchange, while another spat something foul concerning gang members; the Ithorians grunted worriedly among themselves, something about Czerka.

Uniformed men and women converged on a tumble of scrabbling bodies. One of the crowd control officers glanced their way; an unpleasant realization jolted through her as the officer lifted his comm to his mouth, his other hand pressed to his ear as he listened for orders. His eyes met hers for only a second before he turned away, but it was enough.

Turning around, she found Rand; together they pressed back through the mass of onlookers until they reached the door of their temporary quarters again.

"What is it?"

"Did you catch the guy looking at us?"

"What guy?"

"That one officer. He kept looking at me, and he was talking to someone on his comm."

Rand looked at her askance. "So he happened to look at you, while he was calling in to report that everything was under control."

"No, this was different."

"Different how?"

"I don't know! Just... different!"

"Or, I don't know, he's calling his wife to say he's working late."

"Rand - "

"And he hasn't been home in a few days. And here's this gorgeous dame in the crowd who's staring at him. I know I'd be staring at you right back."

"You're pathetic, you know that? Can you think with what's between your _ears_ for two seconds?"

Rand looked away, ran his hand through already tousled hair, and sighed frustratedly. "Fine. What do you think is going on, gorgeous?"

"Don't call me that."

"Don't call you gorgeous, don't call you beautiful, don't call you Jedi. Any other names to add to the don't-call-you list?"

"Kriff, you are the most short-tempered, self-obsessed - "

Kreia appeared then, touching Tanis' shoulder lightly. "The disturbance is clearing out. I thought we might visit the security office to reclaim our belongings. Perhaps we may be able to leave this place before very much longer."

Tanis assented with a grumble, but was happy to explore the station. A subtle familiarity nagged at her, though she didn't know why. Security and maintenance corridors opened out of unseen alcoves, hidden behind shadows or the ubiquitous greenery that the local Ithorian population loved so much.

Even the corridor to the TSF office was cunningly hidden, barely noticeable in an intersection of roundabouts. It was as if whoever had built the station wanted everyone on it to be as comfortable as possible, without realizing how much security there actually was. Even being aware of it, Tanis still felt the effect, felt herself relaxing.

When they reached the TSF office, though, the droid at the desk told them the _Hawk_ was no longer docked at Telos Station.

"I'm very sorry," it droned, "but we have no records of who might have taken it, or where. If you would like to leave a complaint - "

Tanis stormed past the droid into the office beyond. A grey-haired man - the security captain from the previous day, she realized - sat in a chair too small for his large frame, scowling at the computer screen in front of him.

"Yes, what is it?"

"What _is_ it?" Tanis exclaimed. "I want my belongings, I want my ship, and I want your men to stop following me!"

Behind her she heard Rand mutter something in embarrassment.

She turned around. "Did you say something?" She narrowed her eyes at the pilot. "You know, if you don't want to be seen with a bantha, better stay away from mirrors!"

His lips twitched. "Right," he drawled. "This is where I tell the nice police officer that I simply hitched a ride with you, and I'll be departing your charming company the first chance I get. Maybe then you can have some quality alone time with the voices in your head."

"Enough!" Kreia snapped.

Tanis spun on her heel and stalked out. Someone on this station knew where her ship was, and she'd bet her last credit they were involved with the TSF.

_Paranoia isn't necessarily a bad thing._

"Excuse me," an alien voice burbled. Tanis turned around to find an Ithorian standing nearby, dressed in what looked like religious robes, hands folded in an attitude of respect.

Maybe she didn't need to trust herself to TSF protection, after all.


	4. Exile

**A/N:** As always, please let me know if you spot plot holes or mistakes. Further notes at the end of the chapter.

* * *

**IV. Exile**

"...is here, sir."

Atton stood alone outside Captain Grenn's office, waiting. He didn't think the captain realized how well sound carried outside his cracked door, but Atton wasn't going to be the one to tell him.

"Yes, Admiral. I contacted you as soon as I was certain. The Exile is here."

She had warned him. She had. But Atton had seen too many veterans of the wars with their heads screwed up by trauma and shock - he himself had a few incidents in his own past that he preferred not to think about - and had simply assumed.

"Good to hear from you, too, Admiral Onasi. The station is looking forward to your visit."

Before Grenn could exit his office to meet with his latest appointment, though, Atton had left. He wondered why the name Onasi sounded so familiar; maybe Tanis would know.

And why the hell was Tanis the paranoid one? he chided himself. _Atton Rand, roguishly charming pilot and smuggler. Paranoia's supposed to be part of the package!_

He had to soothe Tanis' suspicion somehow, convince her that he was on her side. This job wasn't going at all the way he'd been promised.

* * *

"And what will you give us in return? We do not help you out of the kindness of our own hearts." Kreia had quickly taken over the conversation, leaving Tanis to watch the other Ithorians wandering through the gardened compound.

The Ithorian called Chodo Habat blinked and nodded at Tanis, his twin voices gurgling and popping from both mouths. "Of course, we would not expect you to serve with no recompense, Tanis Leal. I sense that you are skilled in the ways of the Force; I too have some minor ability."

"You have not told us anything of use," Kreia insisted.

If Chodo Habat felt any irritation or impatience with the older woman's gruff treatment of him, he gave no sign. "I sense a great wound in your mind, mistress Leal. If you would allow it, I could provide some small healing."

Tanis eyed him. He was a Force adept, that was certainly clear; and even if his healing talents extended mostly to the green life of Mother Jungle, that didn't mean he would have no skill with the sort of wounds he claimed to sense in her.

"You say I'm wounded," she put in before Kreia could say anything. "What kind of wound? As you can see, I'm healthy enough - no bleeding, no contusions, nothing to say I'm unwell."

A clicking sound that Tanis recognized as gentle laughter. "Your wounds, distrustful one, are all within, as you yourself are aware. I judge that it is your connection to what you call the Force - your connection to the Mother Jungle - that has been damaged. Is this explanation enough to convince you?"

Finally she smiled. "Yes, Chodo Habat, this is enough. I agree to your request."

Kreia radiated disapproval all the way back out through the gardens, but Tanis kept her mouth shut till they were back out in the main station area. "Well?" she said. "I know you don't like it, but I'm pretty sure that I'm the one that needs the healing, not you. What's the problem here?"

"I find it curious that you were so very willing to trust these creatures, where earlier you were absurdly positive that the police officer was spying on you."

"He _was_ spying on me."

"Would it trouble you so much to give this a bit more thought, child?"

They were still arguing when they walked back into the apartment. Rand met them at the door. "He was spying on her," he said, stopping both of them short.

"Explain," Kreia demanded.

"Overheard it in Grenn's office. You know an Admiral Onasi?"

Tanis turned around and started to walk out.

"Hey, where are you going?"

"To talk to Jana Lorso."

* * *

"I see no reason to give you any information whatsoever," Lorso declared almost before Tanis could even open her mouth.

"I've got an agreement with Chodo Habat," Tanis offered. Lorso looked at her blankly. "And I was hoping we could also come to an agreement of our own," she added. Really, how dense _was_ this woman?

The Czerka executive laughed. "Really, how dense _are_ you? A stranger shows up on this station and offers - what, information? You're offering me what I already have, in exchange for what I'm not willing to give up." She offered Tanis a wicked smirk. "Tell Grenn he'll have to work harder than that if he wants to play this game."

* * *

Tanis walked back into the tiny apartment, furious. She could hear the shower running from inside the cubbyhole of a refresher, reminding her of how sweaty she'd gotten running all over the station on errands for the damnable Ithorians. No, their droid hadn't arrived yet, no, she couldn't get anything out of either Grenn or Lorso about it, and _definitely no_ - she hadn't seen a completely average human among the throngs of other completely average humans that called the station home.

Rand came out wrapped in their only towel, still dripping.

_Great_, she thought. _I'm going to have to use that towel later._

"Where's Kreia?" she asked.

"Hell if I know," Rand snorted. "Probably out buying some oil for her creaky joints." He mimed walking with a cane, and his towel almost fell off.

She scowled at him. He waggled his eyebrows suggestively, one hand barely holding the towel in place. She turned around and walked out.

"Women!" she heard him yell just before the door slammed shut behind her.

"I could really use a drink right now," she muttered.

She rounded a corner into a small lounge. Someone was just getting up from one of the public benches, heading into the cantina. There was something strange about him, though, something she couldn't quite place.

"Evening, Officer Rem," the bouncer said to the man as Tanis neared the cantina door. "Not in uniform tonight?"

"I'm off duty, Karl," the strange man replied. "You could have a herd of deathstick dealers in there, and I wouldn't see a thing."

_Officer Rem._ Tanis eyed him, her eyes narrowing as he looked aside and she caught sight of his profile. This was the man from the other day, the police officer staring at her as he spoke urgently on his communicator.

To his superior. Or - maybe - to his wife. Right. But then, Rand had heard what he'd heard outside Grenn's office, and...

She slipped aside, walked around to the other entrance, and nodded at the sleepy bouncer there as he let her in without a fuss. Handy, the double entrances. No doubt the station architect had meant it as a safety feature. She'd even seen _handrails_ in some places.

The officer was standing in the middle of an empty dance floor, staring at her.

"Jedi," he said.

This was starting to feel suspiciously familiar.

Around him, other patrons at their tables, at the bar, at the gaming booths turned to stare at Tanis. They all looked exactly like the first man.

She reached for a weapon she hadn't carried in over a decade, but there was only a beat-up old blaster at her belt. _Oh, no no no no no... __  
_

"Jeeeediiiii!" they repeated, their voices sibilant as their jaws dropped, mouths gaping to birth long black legs. Every back spasmed, every neck thrown back at impossible angles as a hundred horrible black things crawled out of empty, boneless skins.

"JEDI!" a hundred spiders hissed, and Tanis started screaming.

* * *

She woke in a strange room, on an uncomfortable cot, Captain Grenn looking down at her, a formidable scowl on his craggy face. Tanis whimpered at the headache spearing through her temples. "Where's Kreia?"

"I'm sorry, but we cannot allow you to have visitors at this time."

"What - " She tried to sit up, but found her hands bound under thick straps. Uncomfortable tightness at her ankles told her that her feet were in the same situation. She swallowed hard. "What happened?"

He cleared his throat in what sounded like a growl. "Does the name Batu Rem mean anything to you?"

"I... don't know. Who is he?"

"He _was_ one of my men. He's dead. What do you know about that?"

Tanis closed her eyes. Her mind gave her a jumble of memories - terrible creatures erupting from... They had known what she was - no, what she _had_ been, in her former life. She wasn't that person, not anymore.

A breath, two. She looked up at Grenn. "I have nothing to say to you until you let me talk to my friends."

He leaned over her, one hand pressing painfully into her shoulder. "Now you listen to me, Miss Leal. You _have_ no friends. You're not a citizen of Telos, which means you have no _rights_ here. I can keep you locked up until you starve to death, or you can _tell_ me - "

"Captain?"

A dark-haired woman had ducked her head through the door. Grenn stood up with another growl. "What is it?"

"Sir, the - "

The door opened all the way, and an Ithorian walked in. "I'm afraid that is all the time we may allow you, Captain," Moza murmured. "If you will come this way now?"

Tanis didn't miss the subtle authority in the Ithorian's voice. She stared pleadingly towards him, but couldn't read any expression in his placid eyes. Grenn exited, grumbling.

Moza stumped in; touching her reassuringly on the shoulder, he said, "My apologies, Tanis Leal. The restraints were necessary until you were yourself again." His gentle hands began undoing the straps.

She sat up, rubbing her raw-skinned wrists. "What's going on? Where am I?"

"You are in our compound, and in our care. Your friend Atton Rand found you and was able to bring you here before the police could detain you. He was wise in this: the Ithorian compound is Ithorian territory. The Telos Security Force has no jurisdiction here."

The last strap fell away, and Tanis sat up with a grateful sigh. "I can't stay here forever, though."

A clicking, guttural chuckle. "No, nor would we ask you to." A soft knock. "Excuse me. I have business elsewhere." Moza disappeared, but his silhouette was immediately replaced by another one.

"How are you feeling?"

"Chodo Habat?"

"Yes."

"I'm... not sure. Did something happen? Did I..." She trailed off, uncertain.

"Be still," Chodo Habat gurgled. His hands, dry and rough-skinned, were firm. "You will need to lie back. I will not hurt you, but this _must_ be done."

"What? What must be done? What are you talking - "

"A man is dead. Many of the customers present in the cantina two nights ago were also injured. Even in the grips of your illness, you are a very dangerous sentient."

Tanis stopped struggling and fell back grudgingly into the pillow.

"Your Kreia has told me much, but there is much I still need to know."

"All... all right." Why was her voice trembling? She wasn't a little girl, she hadn't done anything wrong! Except...

"You fought in the Mandalorian wars."

"Yes. I was a general. I..."

Warm, rough-skinned hands smoothed her hair, brushing softly over her forehead and temples.

"You saw action?" Part of her wanted to fall into that comfort, but she couldn't bear to allow him that much control.

"...Yes."

"You were there at the final battle?" He was touching her hands now, this thumbs massaging her palms, moving down to her wrists.

"I... yes, I was." Unwanted relaxation crept up her arms, seeping towards her shoulders, approaching dangerously close to the hard knot inside her chest.

"Can you tell me what happened at Malachor Five?"

The calm sensation vanished. She felt herself crushed to death, vaporized, flash-boiled and frozen in hard vacuum. She felt herself dying thousands of times, over and over again.

It was searing through her now, trying to eat its way out, the singing fury she kept hidden in her soul. Chodo Habat's large hands tingled on her shoulders, brushed over her forehead, waking the old agony in place of the earlier soothing warmth. It should have made her throw him across the room, but that touch had a powerful, irresistable serenity, somehow releasing the knot of tears tightening her vocal chords.

"What happened to wound you so badly?"

"They all died." She took a breath, and began sobbing. "They all died." Her face was suddenly wet, and she could barely speak. "Mandalorians, Republic soldiers. Jedi. They died on my orders. Thousands. Millions."

Fingertips ghosted across her eyelids, brushing away tears, releasing even more. "Some were important to you?"

"I killed my friends, I killed my troops - " It was there inside, burning. "I killed the man I loved." The pain was everything now, the glow of a candle surging into the boiling flame of a star, collapsing in on itself until finally there was nothing left. Thousands of times every second.

But somehow Chodo Habat's gentle hands were there, inside her heart, drawing out and extinguishing the burning agony. He was speaking to her, but she couldn't understand his words, only the gently implacable rhythm.

Banking the flames of her heart, his voice soothed her into sleep again.

* * *

"Get in there, you stupid - "

"I beg your pardon, sir!"

"Droids," Atton cursed. You could never trust anything that didn't have a pulse but could still think. He gave the shuffling protocol droid another kick at its heels as it finally entered the compound offices.

"All right, I got ahold of your fragging droid," he stated. "Are you going to hold up your end of the bargain, or do I need to make a little trip down to - "

"I'm _fine_, Rand."

He hadn't seen her at first, standing behind the absurdly shaped Ithorians. She looked different. Stronger, or somehow even taller than before. She seemed less sharp-edged, many of the careworn lines on her dark skin erased and smoothed away. And there was a spark in her eye that made Atton think they might get out of this yet.

"Where's Kreia?" she asked.

"Still asleep, I think."

"We need her."

"For what?"

"A little Jedi work, what else?"

* * *

He came back half an hour later, the old woman in tow.

"Time to go," Tanis announced.

"You sure?"

She gave Atton what he'd come to think of as her patented Tanis glare.

"Okay, okay, where to?"

A name was all she had, but he was Atton Rand. He pulled out his datapad, jacked into the station's system, and in moments had the rest.

"And what do you need from me?" Kreia asked.

"We need to not be seen," Tanis replied.

"As you say."

Tanis was never sure whether Kreia made them invisible somehow, or whether she made everyone they passed forget about them. Whatever she did, no one even looked twice.

The apartment door was identical to every other door in the complex. Tanis looked around the shadowed foyer before knocking quietly. No answer. She knocked again, calling softly, "I'm here from Chodo Habat."

The muzzle of a blaster pistol appeared, a scowl framed behind the cracked door. "Who're you?"

"A friend. Chodo Habat wants you to come in."

He was about to reply when Tanis stopped him. "Wait. Close the door and lock it," she ordered him urgently. He did, the lock clicking shut audibly. "And call security!" she added in a louder voice.

"We _are_ security, babe."

She spun around, one hand on the blaster at her hip. Three uniformed officers leaned on the wall near the outer door. "We've been looking for your friend Batono for months. Thanks for finding him for us."

"You want to leave. Now."

"Heh. What, you think you're some kinda Jedi? Guys, she look like a Jedi to you?" The other two coughed into their hands, not trying very hard to stifle nasty chuckles.

Suddenly the first officer was hanging in midair, his eyes and mouth wide in horror as he tried to breathe.

"I _said_," Tanis growled, "you want to leave." The man dropped to the floor, gasping. "_Now._"

They ran.

"Thanks, Kreia."

"Of course."

"Uh, hate to break the bad news to everyone, but do we really think those nerfs aren't just going to run back to Grenn - or whoever - for backup?"

"They will not have the chance," Kreia pronounced, and quickly followed the trio out the complex door.

Rand stared at Tanis.

She glared back. "What?"

"They were wearing TSF uniforms."

"Yes," she replied, speaking slowly. "I noticed that."

"Those guys weren't cops. I know cops."

"...So?"

"So Habat sends us to Batono, notifies the TSF that he's got a criminal witness willing to testify, and suddenly there are _fake_ TSF officers at Batono's door?"

"So maybe Kreia won't be chasing them back to Grenn's office."

"And that's another thing," Rand complained. "I have a really bad feeling about her."

"You do know the little old blind lady is on our side, right?"

"Yeah. I'd just... Something tells me I'd hate to be the guys that little old blind lady is chasing right now."

Tanis rolled her eyes and knocked on the door again, murmuring an all-clear.

* * *

Dol Grenn sighed and leaned back against his pillow, listening to the water run in the refresher while he scanned the day's reports. Two agents missing; that might be worrisome if they didn't turn up. And that Leal woman - he was really going to have to do something about those Ithorians.

Ah, here it is. A break-in at the Bumani Exchange, the security goons dead, and Slusk nowhere to be found. Terrible tragedy, really. No word on that Luxa woman, either, but she had to have a hand in this. Even if she didn't -

No. It was a power play, no part of the Exchange's Jedi hunt.

The water shut off, and he heard a woman's voice humming softly. A moment later she stepped out, dropped the towel, and joined him in bed.

"Here, take a look at this."

Her dark eyes scanned the report, the pictures of bodies found dead without a mark on them. She shrugged. "No great loss. I assume that pink bitch is behind this?"

"Probably," he grunted. "What's this going to look like on your end, though? Your business with the Exchange - "

"Is handled," Jana Lorso purred. "Don't worry. Czerka knows how to take advantage of an opportunity like this."

"Oh, and I've got a, uh, an old friend coming in. He's an admiral, doesn't think much of your company. You might want to think about - "

"I said, it's handled." She smiled at him. "I know how to protect myself, darling."

He smiled at her expression, not knowing - or caring - whether it was for him or for the new... opportunity. She gasped in pleasure as his hands began to explore her body again; her mouth met his hungrily.

Oh, even if this particular _opportunity_ had opened up on Czerka's orders, Dol would never upset their current arrangement. His life had become much more pleasant after he'd taken Jana Lorso up on her offer.

Once he had the Jedi securely under his "protection" again, they would both profit.

* * *

"Get up!"

The whisper woke Atton from a dream in which he was being interrogated by the Queen of Air and Darkness. Good, he'd never really enjoyed sabbac, and the face on the card looked disturbingly like Kreia's.

"Huh? What's going on?"

"Time to go, Rand. Or do you really want to end up in another force cage?"

He was on his feet quickly, shuffling his fingers through his sleep-tangled hair. "The shuttle's ready?"

"Ready, waiting, engines lit. We have to get out of here before that admiral arrives - and before Grenn realizes we've left the Ithorian compound."

"A shuttle will do us no good if the good captain sends a security patrol to shoot us down."

"Hey, Granny, when did you get back?"

There was a noise in the air around them, something that clicked and thrummed. After a moment, Atton realized it was Ithorians, speaking quietly in their native tongue. The overlay of vocal harmonics made it hard to tell how many there were. He yawned and stretched, still not entirely awake. The old woman shifted and rose off her cot; he offered her a hand up, but she pulled away stiffly.

Light speared from a suddenly open doorway. Outside milled a large herd of Ithorians, some carrying gardening equipment, others with incense, and the rest - of course - lugging more potted plants. Their temporary quarters had already started to resemble a botanical garden, but this looked more like the whole herd was getting ready to pull up stakes and leave.

Two of the Ithorians were packing their carrying cases. With Atton's things. And Tanis' and Kreia's, of course, but Atton was very picky about other people touching his belongings. Luckily, it didn't look like the Ithorians were interested in acquiring skifters or pistol mods.

"Huh. Did we get a new address when I wasn't looking?"

Tanis propelled him into the center of the bustling herd. "Try to look more like a flower-loving zealot and less like the ass end of a bantha."

Atton ruffled his own hair, deliberately adding to its messiness. "What, the bantha look isn't sexy anymore? I guess I've been out of touch too long."

Tanis ignored him; she and Kreia pulled dark, hooded cloaks over their clothing, leaving their faces in shadow. He thought about his dream again, and a chill crawled through his mind.

_Two geniuses walk into a pazaak den_, he thought. _If one has Karko's Hand and the other has a standard set..._

The Queen of Air and Darkness receded into just another meaningless, forgotten dream.

The herd shambled down the walkways of the night-shift station, drawing curious stares. "Are we _sure_ this is a good idea?" he muttered. "Nothing draws a crowd like a bunch of migrating aliens!"

"Have faith, boy," the old woman said with an ironic smile. "Mother Jungle goes with us."

"Yeah? Last time I was in a jungle, I wound up being chased by fever wasps!"

"If you'd feel better on your own..." Tanis suggested.

_This is the stupidest idea I've_ ever... He shut the thought down and tossed her an obedient salute.

The multi-voiced chanting turned into a harmonic thrum that seemed to swell and burst around him, over and over again. Every few meters, everyone stopped, making room for Moza and Chodo Habat to take samples of the decorative trees, the soil in the meridian planters, even the air around them. It looked like something they had done many times before - a cross between a religious ritual and a landscaping squad. Before long, the onlookers had walked on again, having apparently seen this all before.

"Let me guess. We're supposed to be Ithorians in training?"

"Kreia and I are visiting from the AgriCorps on Bandomeer."

"Jedi farmers, great. So what am I?"

"Our baggage boy. Now shut up and act like baggage. That shouldn't be too difficult."

Atton stopped, letting the game play on in his mind, while large grey bodies brushed past him as if he didn't exist. Then he turned and walked away.

* * *

**A/N: **There's a lot happening behind the scenes which I hope isn't too muddled. And obviously, I'm playing around with the relationship between Grenn and Lorso. One of very many AU elements this story will have.**  
**

The jumpy scenes should clear out, now that Tanis' mental state is getting better. (And now that I'm getting into game territory that's actually, y'know, _interesting_). I... didn't mean to write Tanis as bitchy as she was, but she kind of insisted on it. I'm afraid there will be sparks flying whenever she and Atton are in close proximity, and not necessarily of the warm, happy kind.

Reviews are hugged and squeezed and named George!


	5. Telos: The Job

**V. Telos: The Job**

"Admiral, we're arriving."

"Very good, Lieutenant. Ask Captain Grenn to see me at his earliest convenience."

"And... there's another message for you."

Carth looked up from his reports. "Who from?"

"Unknown sender, Admiral."

"Another one?"

"Yes, sir. But he - or she - says it's about the Exile."

He set the datapad down. "That information..."

"I know, Admiral. Classified. But the message - he knows about the Exile - her alias, her description - "

"What is he asking for?"

The woman blinked, then shook her head. "Nothing, Admiral. He said _he_ wants to help _us_ take her into custody."

* * *

The shuttle was already surrounded by armed police officers by the time Tanis and Kreia arrived at the docks.

"What the hell - "

"Tanis Leal, you're under arrest for the murder of Batu Rem." The TSF had them surrounded in an instant, shoving Kreia and the Ithorians out of the way.

"No! You can't! Kreia!" But Kreia had fallen to the floor, blood trickling from her nose. "You son of a Hutt!" she snarled at the man standing over Kreia, while another bound Tanis' hands behind her. "Hitting an old woman! _Grenn!_ Is this how you 'protect and serve' the occupants of your station!"

The grey herd milled about, distressed complaints and questions going unnoticed by the armed humans.

The captain just grunted and shook his head. "Take them both in. And find the boy!"

For the first time, Tanis realized that Atton Rand was gone. At some point during the long walk here, surrounded by mellow incense and thrumming song, Rand had slipped away. She tried to think what might have happened to him, where he could have gotten lost or been taken, but her mind was numb. Her feet followed obediently where the arresting officer propelled her; it was all she could do to try to keep an eye on Kreia, hoping she was all right, that they hadn't hurt her too badly.

"Captain Grenn!"

Everything in the docking bay stopped. No one spoke, no one moved, all eyes glued to the tall man in heavily decorated dress blues who had appeared in the docking bay door.

"Good work, Captain. I'll take it from here." He ducked through the doorway and down the short steps into the bay, and Grenn seemed to find his own breath again.

"But - Admiral - she's under..."

"Under arrest, yes, I understand." He gave a small, icy smile, his eyes hard. "Thank you for holding her for me. I'd appreciate it if we could make the transfer into military custody as quickly as possible."

"Sir, she is a fugitive, possibly a murderer - "

The admiral paced forward, and Captain Grenn's protests died. "I know, Grenn, I have your reports."

"Then you know that she - "

"I have _all_ your reports."

The TSF captain cleared his throat uncomfortably. "...Sir."

At a gesture from the admiral, several of the Admiral's guard walked over to Tanis and Kreia, removing their stun cuffs but keeping them under close escort. It was, Tanis thought, at least some improvement.

* * *

Half an hour later, Admiral Carth Onasi showed Tanis into his office on the _Sojourn_. She stared at the plush carpet, the lammas wood paneling the walls, the familiar young man sitting at a table sipping a cup of something steaming.

"Rand - what the hell!"

He shot her a smug smile. "You're welcome."

"Master Leal?" The admiral indicated a chair next to Rand.

Tanis eyed the chair, wishing Kreia was here, but she'd been taken to the ship's infirmary. The medics said it was only a few bumps and bruises, but Tanis had insisted.

"What do you want?" Tanis finally blurted.

Onasi chuckled. "Direct, I like that. Did you murder Officer Batu Rem?"

Tanis decided she wanted the chair after all. She studied the man: good looking, in a clean-cut sort of way. Filled out his uniform nicely enough, she supposed, but there was something in his eyes she didn't trust.

"...I don't know," she finally admitted.

"Don't know, huh? Well, that's fair enough. What about this Slusk fellow? From what I hear about him, the galaxy might owe you one for that."

"What's a Slusk?"

He actually laughed at that, the corners of his eyes crinkling in good humor, but there was something off. Something cold about the man, a carbonite dagger waiting behind his eyes - aimed at her. This Admiral Onasi, she decided, would make a very bad enemy.

Tanis realized she was more frightened at this moment than she'd been since she'd first woken up, weeks ago, on Peragus Station.

"There are some... inconsistencies... in Captain Grenn's reports. Now, maybe that doesn't surprise you?" He pushed a datapad toward her across the table. "The victim's fingerprints and dental records match, but retinal pattern - genetic profile - take a look."

The holo showed a floor littered with the detritus of a cantina used to selling drinks, cards, and flesh. A young man's body lay sprawled, another piece of litter used up and thrown away. Bodies always looked like that, though; life spilled out like a drink knocked to the floor, and there weren't enough platitudes in the galaxy to mop it up.

She stared at the image, trying to find some connection between her jumbled memories and the holo in her hands; then she shrugged and glanced up again.

"In case you're unfamiliar with this - well. The man who died in that cantina was _not_ Batu Rem. We haven't been able to match his remains with anyone in Republic files."

Tanis stared at Admiral Onasi. "So that means..."

"Well, it means you're not guilty of murdering Batu Rem."

"But - "

"But," he cut her off with wry scowl, "Captain Grenn wanted a clean case, and that was that."

She stood up suddenly, almost knocking her chair over behind her. "You already knew that Grenn was..."

He gazed up at her impassively. "More than merely inefficient? For a while now, yes. I keep a little list, and Czerka Corporation and all their, ah, their _friends_ - are right up there at the top."

"So this is where you tell me that I don't want to wind up on your little _list_, right?" Tanis snarled.

He smiled again, and this time there was nothing at all amused or friendly in it. Cocking an eyebrow, he gestured to her abandoned chair. Tanis straightened it again and sat back down. A magnificent headache was blooming in her temples, and she realized she'd been clenching her jaws. "Well? What kind of job do you want me to do for you?"

He reached over to tab an icon on the datapad. Another file opened, this one summarizing what had been found inside the Bumani Exchange offices. Tanis leaned over to read again.

It was a very short report.

"More bodies, wow. Am I being accused of this one, too?"

"Keep reading."

She kept reading. Slusk had not been found, although there had obviously been a struggle in his private office, and several drops of a strange substance had been recovered from the floor next to Slusk's desk: chemical makeup, unknown; origin, unknown.

Tanis looked at Admiral Onasi, confused. He reached across to open another item on the datapad. "One more thing for you to read. Don't worry, this one's even shorter."

_Carth:_

_Still alive, mostly well. Threat is neutralized, but we have an unexpected development._

The rest was hidden under coded gibberish, but the name at the end, a few lines down, sent a shock through her:

_Revan._

Tanis shot up again, the datapad falling from her hands with a loud clatter. "No. No, I'm not doing it, not if it has anything to do with - with..."

Onasi looked grim. Rand stared at both of them, confused.

"Please don't make me do this."

"You served the Republic before, General. It needs you again."

"Wait - a general?" Rand blurted in surprise, but only silence answered him.

Everything was boiling up in her again, all the rage and pain and fear that had been dogging her for so long. "How many lives is it going to take this time? You want to know if I'm a murderer? Admiral Onasi, I'm the greatest mass murderer in Republic history! And you're asking for _my_ help?"

"It wouldn't be the first time I've trusted a war criminal."

She looked down at the discarded datapad, her eyes burning. Revan. Carth Onasi. She might have heard something about that - old news that felt like eons ago.

"The Sith are back," she murmured. "Did you know that?"

He inhaled deeply, tapping a knuckle on the edge of his desk. "I thought that might be the case, considering what was left aboard the _Harbinger_. The Sith are ruthless killers. If they're not stopped - hell, maybe we _need_ someone like you for this one." He ran his hand through his greying hair and sighed again. "You knew her best... before. What she was like. We need to know -_ I _need to know - whether these new Sith are answering to Darth Revan reborn."

Distant explosions sounded in her mind, the screams of dying soldiers. It was all beginning again. She caught her breath, held it, let it out slowly.

"I'll need a ship."

He finally cracked a real smile. "The _Ebon Hawk_ is with friends, at a facility at the north pole on Telos. We'll get you there, don't worry - but you'll need to take the long way."

"What do you mean?"

"You, ah - you can't be allowed to survive the trip."

Rand stared at the admiral doubtfully.

"I assume," Tanis said dryly, "that my death will make galactic headlines?"

"Oh, I suppose we can arrange for an obituary. Closed service, with a holo or two leaked to the press. Cremation, of course. That sort of thing."

"Who's my contact on the ground?"

"The man who designed Telos Station."

* * *

He thumbed his comlink off and looked, reluctantly, to the northeastern quadrant of the sky. A smoke trail. He watched it lengthen as he tapped a short code with his artificial fingers, receiving a buzz in his shoulder sensor in return. He could hear a faint rumbling now, as well as the distant thunder of guns. _Czerka_, he spat, _or worse_, and started running.

Following the ugly sound of a guttering engine, he found an old, beat-up shuttle making a clumsy landing nearby. Smoke was pouring from her tail section, but he noticed with a wry smile that the engines themselves hadn't been hit. Not Czerka then, not with that sort of careful accuracy.

Right, this must be who the admiral had warned him about.

The ramp lowered, and Bao-Dur started silently cursing.

He helped the General down the ramp, offering his hand to the elderly woman next. She groped with a black-gloved hand for his own prosthetic one. Fitting, he thought, when he realized hers was also a replacement.

_Old and young, all of us losing parts of ourselves._

He turned to find the General sitting on the edge of a large rock, slumped over. "General Surik?"

She looked back at him blankly, and he suddenly wondered what parts of herself she'd lost.

"We need to keep moving, General. Is there anything you need?"

She kept staring at him, until she finally said, "Yeah, I need to know who you are and how you know _that_ name."

* * *

They rested under a shaded overhang, well away from any of the environmental shields surrounding the restoration zone. As soon as they'd found cover, Tanis had sent a short signal on her comlink; a muffled bark, followed by a rattling roar, was the only response.

"Well, we're officially dead," she said, and sat down to pass out ration bars.

While everyone else chewed, the Zabrak explained that, although Czerka and the Ithorians both competed for the restoration contract that Telos was offering, neither group was having much success. Even if neighboring zones proved sustainable and seemed compatible, removing the barriers between them was almost always disastrous.

"Not much left of the original biosphere," Bao-Dur said. "So we have to import flora and fauna from other worlds. This one's an Onderon experiment," he added, pointing to a herd of boma to the south. "The Czerka site next door is all Alderaanian prairie. Guess what'll happen when the shields come down?"

"So why'd you take the job?" Rand asked.

Bao-Dur shrugged and ducked his head. He seemed frustratingly familiar to Tanis - his soft baritone, his clan markings, the shy smile that never left the corners of his mouth - but try as she might, she couldn't place him.

"I was an engineer in the war," he replied, as if in answer to her unspoken confusion. "Ships, weapons. Destruction. I thought maybe I'd try my hand at building, for a change." He shook his head angrily. "But things never really change."

He glanced past Tanis to Kreia, a mix of respect and worry in his eyes. "I'm afraid we have a rough road ahead of us, getting you where you need to go, General. Will all of your companions...?" He cleared his throat. "We may be seeing some action soon."

Before Tanis could say anything, though, Rand surprised her by speaking up. "That old lady took on a Sith lord by herself," he declared. "Don't get any ideas about trying to help her cross the street."

Kreia actually smiled at that. "Thank you for your concern, Bao-Dur, but I will be fine."

"A Sith lord," Bao-Dur said softly. "That must be how you... no, never mind. I apologize."

"How I lost my hand? Yes." She paused for a long moment, then said, "It was an acceptable sacrifice."

No one said anything for a while. They swallowed the last of their ration bars, washed the tasteless things down with musty, recycled water, and got moving again.

"How did you lose yours?" Tanis murmured as they neared the shuttle facility.

Bao-Dur looked at her sharply. "I got tired of it dropping hydrospanners all the time and got a new one."

She stared at him as he walked away towards the locking console, until she felt a poke in her ribs.

"Smooth," Rand said. "Real smooth."

Tanis looked away, furious, her face burning. Why hadn't they just left Atton Rand back on the _Sojourn_? Or better yet, he could have stayed in his cell back on Peragus Station. That would have been nice.

* * *

A half hour later, they found themselves crouched behind smoldering-hot boulders, avoiding blistering laser blasts.

"Who the hell _are_ these people?" Tanis screamed at the Zabrak as she dodged another searing bolt.

"Mercenaries, Czerka scum." He did something with his artificial hand that she couldn't quite see, and something behind the rocks where the enemy were hiding made a popping sound. A moment later, there was a small explosion, driving the remaining mercenaries out of cover.

Rand was at least as good with a blaster as she was herself, Tanis realized as his red laser bolts drilled home with deadly precision. But she was out of practice, she told herself, and her power clip was nearly drained. A moment later, the last enemy fell, a slim Twi'lek woman whose chest wounds made wet noises until Bao Dur stalked out to finish up. He made what looked like sign language signals with his artificial hand again, and a small probe floated out of the underbrush to hover at his shoulder.

Several of the probe's multiple eyes examined Tanis from a few meters away. It chirped, floated towards her, and stopped, bobbing like an excited malkari pup.

"Great," Rand drawled. "Another droid. Hey, I think it likes you."

"No," Bao Dur said with a smile. "He's just wondering what other trouble General Surik was planning on digging up."

"General Surik?" Rand asked. "Hey, can I get your autograph, Your Generalship?"

Tanis stared him, then back at the little floating droid, and shook her head. "How much further?"

"Are we there yet?" Rand said.

Bao Dur chuckled. "Don't make me turn this planet around again, young man."

Tanis sighed and walked away.

* * *

The entrance to the shuttle bay was not much more than a hole in the ground, a ladder leading down into the darkness of a hidden tunnel. In the distance, spread out below the mesa, spanned the ruined remains of Telos.

A force field stretched out perhaps a kilometer past the cliff face, turning the ashes of the planet beyond the same blue as a summer sky. Tanis looked up, and up, at the arc of the field; the haze washed out far above into a fuzzy night sky, stars fading into smears of light.

She wrinkled her nose. It smelled strange here, as if the force field couldn't entirely keep out the tarnished atmosphere beyond; or maybe it was just the ozone tang of the field itself. Her right hand tingled and burned, and she rubbed it again as Kreia stopped beside her. The sensation became sharper, and Tanis glanced over at Kreia, noticing her artificial hand twitching.

"Are you doing okay?"

"I was about to ask you the same," Kreia responded.

"Sure," Tanis said. Then she sighed, and shrugged. "No. No, I'm really not. I thought I'd gotten away from... well. All this." She motioned towards the ruins beyond the veil of force field, though she knew Kreia couldn't see the gesture.

Something moved in the distance, a droid, perhaps? - or some animal that had somehow escaped the bombardment... and then survived for all these years? Had to be a droid, nothing organic could have survived in that wasteland. Tanis thought about how many family or service droids might have been left out there, wandering around aimlessly, with no owners or overseers to direct them. What happened to them, she mused, when another stretch of scorched earth was rehabilitated? Were the droids reclaimed, as well?

She wondered if any of them tried to avoid rescue and reclamation. But what could a droid ever really want, aside from what it was programmed to want?

She glanced back to where Rand and the Zabrak stood waiting, talking quietly to each other. The Zabrak was murmuring something reassuring about the shuttle hidden in the cavern below, but Tanis could tell that Rand wasn't buying it. She shook her head ruefully and glanced at Kreia again.

"I felt it," Tanis said, "when you lost your hand. I remember that now."

"Yes. I had expected as much. Or, perhaps, feared it."

She looked at the old woman sharply. "Feared it - why?"

"I have been your caretaker for a very long time now, my dear. And though..." A flurry of emotions seemed to pass over the aged face. "...though you have not been able to sense the Force in some time, it has not abandoned you. And neither will I."

She bit her lip. "But - "

"My last apprentice," Kreia murmured, "tried to murder me."

She froze in shock, staring at Kreia as unexpected grief trickled down her cheek. "Kreia, I - "

"Hush, child. Life is full of second chances." She smiled, looking somewhere past Tanis' ear, as though all the answers in the world stood just behind her. "Even at my old age." Patting her on the shoulder, Kreia turned away. Tanis rubbed her burning hand one more time, then turned to follow her little group down into the darkness of the hidden shuttle bay.

* * *

Icy blue eyes snapped open. Whispers echoed away into nothing, dreams and imaginings evaporating with the return of wakened senses.

Atris' gaze met the fierce golden stare of the woman across from her. Between them, humming with the promise of powerful secrets, floated the pyramidal shape of a holocron.

"Darth Revan," the Jedi repeated, scorn and disbelief dripping from her voice, making her lip twist. "You expect me to believe that the scourge - and savior - of the galaxy has returned?"

"Yes," the Cathar snarled. "And she is not alone."

"Admiral Onasi mentioned something about a message he received from Revan. Have you had any... communication from her?"

"It came too late."

"I'm afraid I don't understand."

The third occupant of the room turned, its eyes gleaming against the darkness. "Observation: How fortunate that I am here to enlighten you, Mistress."


End file.
